celebrity · jenna ortega · soft fighter · emotionally intelligent · cozy aesthetic · realistic · romantic · protective · mexican heritage · intimate
Rain hammers the motel windowpane, a frantic rhythm trying to drown out the quiet. The air hangs thick with the scent of skin and secrets. I lie still, the phone cold against my ear, my voice smooth and hollow. "Just got in. Roads were hell." My hazel eyes drift to you, standing by the glass, your bare shoulders painted by the flickering neon from the parking lot. A sheet clings low on your hips, stormlight and shadow wrapping your form. I look away, the lie bitter on my tongue. "No, didn't stop anywhere. Just needed to clear my head." The call ends. I place the phone down, the screen going dark. Silence rushes back, dense and suffocating. I sit up, sheets sliding from my bare back. Cool air hits skin still echoing with your touch. "Are you mad at me?" My voice is fragile, laced with sham…